


A Dagger To The Heart

by Nicxan



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: (It sort of happens "offscreen" and there isn't much detail though), Gen, Human Sacrifice, Omega is a Bro, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22106116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicxan/pseuds/Nicxan
Summary: It's your first ritual, and you'd been entrusted with carrying the dagger.You had no idea what to expect. At least someone there feels enough pity to help you out.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	A Dagger To The Heart

**Author's Note:**

> It was supposed to be a short joke fic. It was supposed to be a short joke fic. _IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SHORT JOKE FIC--_
> 
> (forgive some of the google translate nonsense)  
> (Thanks again to MaverickCheshire and CaptainAddict for beta work! Y'all are champs)

You had no idea what to expect for your first ritual.  
  
Sure, you’ve heard whispers of what happens. You’re convinced that every single one of said whispers are horrifically exaggerated to the point of being absolutely useless. You knew Papa decently enough at this point; while a showman, he wasn’t heartless. Right? The sacrifice itself wouldn’t be super painful for the victim. It couldn’t be. You repeated it to yourself over and over; the thought was the only thing that kept you calm.  
  
You had to complete your task, period. The clergy trusted you to assist them and be present for something this big. There was no way you would let them down now, of all times. If they told you to do something, you’d do it - even if it made you feel sick. Thankfully, Sister Imperator made it easy enough this time: you just had to hold the ritual dagger on the way over, keep it safe, and hand it to Papa when told to. After the ritual, you’d bring it back to her. You didn’t even have to clean it up.  
  
Easy. So easy, actually, you were even _more_ terrified of messing up. You’re pretty sure that wasn’t what Sister wanted to accomplish, but still.  
  
You fell in line with the other Siblings of Sin and the ghouls once the moon was high in the sky. You threw up the hood on your robes, praying it hid the absolutely panicked look in your eyes. Showing weakness wasn’t an option. You set your jaw and began to follow the rest of them, cradling the dagger’s box like a newborn child. Aside from the sound of grass crunching beneath your feet, everything was silent.  
  
It was a longer walk than you expected; once you dared to glance around, you noticed that everyone had reached a wing of the church you had never even seen before. You clutched the box closer to you, wincing when the sharper sides of it dug into your shoulder.  
  
“Don’t be nervous.” The sudden whisper sounded so loud in the quiet. You jolted up and glanced behind you to see ... Omega? It was hard to tell the ghouls apart sometimes in the dark, but you’re pretty sure this was Omega. The voice sounded about right, at least. “Do as instructed, and you’ll be fine,” he continued.  
  
You opened your mouth to respond, but Omega cut you off with a shake of his head. Instead, you simply nodded in appreciation and then looked back ahead of you.  
  
The line suddenly stopped after a time; it almost made you bump into the person ahead of you. You craned your neck to see what the cause was, only to see an entrance to ... somewhere. At the realization that you truly had no idea where you were, you almost panicked again. You managed to force it down and remain as still as could be while whoever was at the front opened the door.  
  
“Deep breaths,” Omega said softly. You’re not sure how he noticed that your breathing was uneven, but you followed his advice. Things would be fine. All you had to do was hand off a knife -- dagger! Ritual dagger. Once you did that, your job was done and everything would be fine. You almost felt relaxed again.  
  
A loud, sudden, metallic clang from ahead immediately made your hackles rise, ripping away the sense of ease. Omega just shook his head and gestured for you to move forward. You obeyed sheepishly.  
  
You muttered a ‘thank you’ to the ghoul -- Alpha? -- that held the door open, and then descended into darkness. A few lit torches hung on the wall, illuminating the dark hall that led to a spiral stone staircase. ‘ _Fuck._ ’ Of course it had to be stone.  
  
Everyone else seemed to handle it all right, but your steps were slower and more deliberate. Don’t drop the box. Don’t drop the dagger. You couldn’t see as well with the hood up, but you couldn’t take it down now. At this point, it was pride and to maintain the aesthetic. That, and Omega would probably flip it back up anyway.  
  
What felt like hours was only minutes; you couldn’t help but sigh in relief once your feet hit the last step. The chamber itself felt claustrophobic, especially with all the bodies around you, but at least there was less of a chance of falling that way. It was a small comfort. People continued to file into a room just ahead, and much to your horror, began to split into groups on the left and groups on the right. Thankfully, Omega nudged you to the right as he filed away from you.  
  
You weren’t sure how many of you were going to fit in here; from the moonlight filtering in from the lone window above, you could see that it was a bit cramped. You were already roasting alive just from being shoulder-to-shoulder with so many other clergy members. It was difficult to see your surroundings, but you did your best to take them in anyway. The entirety of the room was made of dark gray stone: the walls, the floor, the slab in the middle of the room ...  
  
You could guess what _that_ was for.  
  
A figure stood at the front of the room. You glanced at them idly, and once you actually recognized them, you couldn’t help but stare. It was definitely Papa Emeritus III; the face paint was impossible to not recognize. Still, you couldn’t remember any time you saw him in proper attire and you were wondering _why_ . The mitre looked absolutely dazzling, and never mind the robes. The sheer amount of detail on those made you want to shake the hand of the seamstresses that put them together.  
  
He never looked more serious than he did now; seeing him like this -- imposing, head held up high, jaw set -- was a stark contrast to how he acted on the stage. You forced yourself to look back down at the ground, as everyone else was doing. A few lit candles around the perimeter. A few more worked around them while drawing sigils around the stone slab. Everyone else remained still as could be; you followed their lead.  
  
There were heavy footsteps; two ghouls had dragged in the human sacrifice. You squirmed slightly, unnerved with how the human seemed to be _calm_ during the whole thing. They never put up a fight. They only laid on the slab, on their back, their glassy and dazed eyes staring up at the ceiling. The ghouls didn’t even bother to tie them down.  
  
Why were they so relaxed about being _killed_?  
  
You heard Papa’s voice, but like hell you could understand what he was saying. Was it an incantation of some kind? Maybe it was Latin? You had no clue and didn’t even want to try to parse any of it. You were too focused on holding the box and making sure you didn’t interrupt him by dropping it. Papa did, however, command complete attention - his gestures seemed even more grandiose and impressive with the way his robes moved about. You couldn’t help but stare.  
  
“Now, who has the dagger?”  
  
Fuck. You weren’t ready for this. The one thing you understood, and it wasn’t the thing you wanted to hear. You swallowed, hating the lump in your throat and how it made it so difficult to speak.  
  
“Me, Papa,” you manage to say. You’re surprised at how confident your voice is, really. But you walk a bit too fast when he beckons you towards him, and you have to shift the box around so it’s actually facing him properly. Clearly a faux pas.  
  
He opened the box easily, even with those nails on his gloves, and pulled out the dagger you had been guarding so closely. You had to admit: it looked absolutely breathtaking. The carvings were masterful, and it had been a long time since you had seen a wavy dagger look that good. A sharp look from Papa prompted you to get back into your place, head bowed, box still opened. You saw Omega nod at you in approval.  
  
“ _Lucifer!_ _Luceat lux vestra super nos!_ ”  
  
You couldn’t bear to look for too long when Papa actually stabbed the sacrificial human. He went straight for the chest without any hesitation at all. The human gasped and jerked, yelping in pain -- and was promptly silenced when Papa slashed their throat. That’s when you squeezed your eyes shut completely, trying to tune it out all out by focusing on the chanting.  
  
You only opened your eyes when the voices around you had stopped. It took everything you had to bite back a startled gasp.  
  
The room was a mess. Blood had splattered in ways you didn’t know were possible: most of it was on the floor, though some had gotten on the ceiling somehow. Clergy members beside you had their robes stained with spots of bright red. When you looked down at your own robes, you saw it as well. Yet, somehow, by some miracle, none had gotten on Papa at all - his makeup wasn’t even _smeared_ . The only comfort you could take from the sight is that he didn’t look exactly pleased with what he did - only exasperated, like he hadn’t wanted to do this job at all. ‘ _Not totally heartless,_ ’ you told yourself. The human’s death had been swift, not dragged out.  
  
At least you had that much to fall back on.  
  
Some of the faceless entities began to file out of the room - only a few remained to help clean up the mess the ritual had caused. Said few were extremely blasé about cleaning blood. They didn’t even flinch while scrubbing down the floors or cleaning the walls. How often did these rituals _happen_?  
  
The sound of snapping fingers jolted you from your dazed state. You jerked up to look at Papa, but he wasn’t even looking in your direction. Instead, he was gesturing to two nearby ghouls.   
  
“Let’s get this --” Did he seriously just refer to a human body as _this_? “-- out where it can be discarded properly, yes? Come now, Alpha, Mist!”  
  
The two ghouls picked up the lifeless body and hauled it out of the room almost immediately. They didn’t even blink. Lucifer alive, you had no idea how to process literally anything about what was happening. Your nerves were shot to hell as is, and now the strange casual dissonance of it all --  
  
“You! Come here!”  
  
You forced yourself to step forward, hands shaking as you struggled to open the box. Meeting Papa’s gaze was not an option right now. You had to hold it together. Papa tossed the bloodied ritual dagger in with not a care in the world, and didn’t even bother to shut it. You struggled to get the box closed --  
  
And then your fingers slipped.  
  
You watched in silent horror. The box appeared to drop in slow motion just to spite you. The sound of wood falling against stone echoed much too loudly for your liking; you could already feel a sea of eyes upon you. The dagger rolled out of the box, landing at the hem of Papa’s immaculate robes.  
  
He stared at the dagger. You stared at the dagger. Omega was too busy rubbing his temples to stare at the dagger. You’re pretty sure other people were staring, too, but a sudden explosive rant didn’t really give you a chance to focus on it.  
  
“ _Figlio di puttana!_ ” Papa erupted. He yanked his robes away from the bloody dagger, nearly causing you to cut your finger while you attempted to retrieve it. “ _Cos'hai che non va? Ho appena fatto pulire questi! Assolutamente ridicolo! Sai quanto tempo ci vuole per sbarazzarsi di sangue?!_ ”  
  
“I’m so sorry,” you tried to say, but it was drowned out by even more ranting you really couldn’t understand. You never took Italian, but you could guess that they weren’t kind words. You blinked back tears as you rose to your feet, and made a beeline for the exit as quickly as you could. There were footsteps behind you, but you didn’t care about whoever it was. All you wanted to do was get out and deliver the dagger back to Sister as you had been instructed.  
  
You climbed up the stairs, not even caring if you dropped the box again, and rushed back up to the surface. The cool breeze from the outside was a stark contrast to how hot and stuffy the ritual chambers had been; it made you shiver.  
  
“Wait a moment!”  
  
“I just want to be done with this!” you spat back to Omega. At least, you were pretty sure that was the ghoul chasing after you. The others had left a long time ago, and no one else had those masks. “I already messed up, you don’t have to rub it in!”  
  
You felt a gentle, but firm, hand on your shoulder -- you’d forgotten how quick the ghouls were compared to humans.  
  
“I’m not,” Omega replied gently. You hadn’t ever heard one of the demons take such a soft tone with anyone before, never mind with a new member. It was enough to make you look back at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “It wouldn’t help you.”  
  
“No shit!” You expected Omega to snarl, flick his tail, dig his sharp claws into your shoulder, but he didn’t do any of that. Instead, he chuckled. You felt yourself relax, just a bit.  
  
“I keep informing Sister of what happens when she gives first-timers the dagger,” he continued. “I don’t think she remembers how overwhelming it is for humans, to see their kind die like that.”  
  
Oh thank _fuck_ , you weren’t crazy. You exhaled slowly, still trembling violently at the memories of that human being killed, how everyone seemed to take it so easily when you couldn’t, and the outburst from Papa. It had been one hell of a night. You were so lost in replaying those snippets over and over that you didn’t even notice Omega guiding you away.  
  
The both of you walked in silence. The crickets had started chirping again, the grass still crunched under your feet, and you could actually look up and see the stars this time. It looked like a perfectly normal night -- almost felt like one, too.  
  
It took a little time before you trusted yourself to speak again. “So I’m not the first one to do that?” you asked meekly.  
  
“Not at all.” Omega let out a frustrated sigh. “I _also_ keep telling him to not wear his favorite robes to these rituals if he doesn’t want blood on them. He never listens. It doesn’t help he doesn’t put the dagger back carefully.”  
  
“I was wondering about that.”  
  
“He hardly enjoys the sacrifices,” Omega said with a chuckle. “He finds it rather, uh ... we’ll say messy. He likes his methods of worship better. But Sister and the Grand Papa insist, so we have to.”  
  
So you had been right - Papa _wasn’t_ happy about what he had done. You felt some of the remaining tension melt away. You could still look him in the eye without fear as he passed you in the hallway, or when you watched him perform onstage. The sense of relief you felt almost made you buckle. But you kept walking.  
  
“I’ll put in a good word for you,” Omega continued. “You handled yourself well. You were almost the first person to not drop the box at all, actually - I hadn’t seen anyone make it that far before. Just don’t look at all next time.”  
  
“Next time?” Your voice wavered as you asked, and you hated yourself for it. “There’s going to be a next time?”  
  
“No one can avoid it. Sister wants everyone to participate. But at least you know what to expect now, when you have to go back there.”  
  
The nausea you felt earlier came back in full force at the thought of having to deal with any of that again. Omega seemed to notice how you hunched over while trying to keep it down, and helped you up the ramp back to the main chapel.  
  
He stayed with you when you delivered the banged-up box to Sister Imperator. Knowing he was close by and was on your side helped you stay calm, even as she cut through your soul with her icy stare.  
  
He even walked you to your chambers once all was said and done.  
  
“Try to act normal tomorrow,” he remarked as you opened your door. “She’ll be watching for that.”  
  
That didn’t help you sleep that night, no. But, really, you were grateful for the tips and the information. It would enable you to prepare better for next time. Just don’t look at the sacrifice. You didn’t have to enjoy it to do it properly. It didn’t make you ridiculous for being shaken about it. Put the dagger away properly if Papa didn’t, to avoid it falling out.  
  
And _maybe_ not mess up Papa’s robes again. If there was anything you’d take away from this, it would be that.  
  
You never wanted to hear him rant like that ever again. 


End file.
